Chapter 2 The fairy named melia

I kept the iron poker raised, my grip tightening every second.

I moved closer to the cabinet door, gently forcing the rusted lock open with a sharp, levered twist.

As it creaked open, a cloud of glowing lavender dust filled the air, making Kaelen burst into a coughing.

Sitting underneath the sparkling smoke was a tiny creature smaller than a bottle of wine, with glass-like wings that looked far heavier than they actually were.

“Finally!” She squeaked, rubbing her oversized purple eyes. “Do you have any idea how dusty it is down here?!”

“A fairy,” Kaelen whispered over my shoulder.

“A potion fairy,” I corrected, finally lowering the iron poker.

She coughed twice before flapping her wings rapidly,

rising to meet me at eye level. She gently tilted her head to the side and squinted, while I offered a strange, shy smile.

“You smell like silver-moss and moon-lily,” she accused.

I opened my mouth to respond, but she cut me off before words could come out. “A potion brewer!!”

“Yes, I—”

“Do you work for the Citadel, or do you work privately?” she demanded, hovering closer.

Before I could answer, a violent, rattling sound erupted from the front door. The heavy timber frame snapped and slammed open under a sudden, freezing gust of wind.

The three of us rushed over to check it out.

“Does the wind here do that often?” I asked, turning to the fairy as ice dusted the threshold.

“Don't look at me, I've been trapped in that cabinet for years,” she responded. “I'm Melia, by the way.”

“Elowen.”

“Kaelen!” my brother added, looking genuinely intrigued.

I cast a quick, basic fixing spell to repair the latch, and the door clicked shut.

After exchanging quick pleasantries, Melia suggested we head to the town's market to pick up supplies—both for potion brewing and for food, since the long run from Aethelgard had left my stomach growling.

“So how did you end up in that cabinet?” I asked as we walked through the busy market square of Oakhaven.

“I was working with a potion brewer in this very town,” she responded. “Look! We usually buy raw ingredients from that store over there!” She pointed with a tiny hand and flew toward a dimly lit shopfront.

It turned out her former owner had passed away three winters ago, and Melia had been trapped inside that locked cabinet ever since, waiting for someone to open it. Fairies, by nature, are bound to serve a hearth and master.

She led us into a shop that looked like it belonged to a voodoo master who was actually a cheap knock-off.

“Umm… Melia?” I called out right before we stepped over the threshold. “Are you sure this is the right place?”

“Fairies have the best memory,” was the only response she gave before flying inside.

The interior looked exactly as I’d predicted. Fake animal skulls and dyed bones hung from the rafters, the air reeked of cheap pixie dust, and a dramatic soothsayer booth sat tucked in the corner.

Does this person actually know any real magic?

“Welcome!” a weird-looking man with long blue hair and silver rings punched through his ears announced from behind the counter. “To the Witches' Keep!”

Odd name, but okay.

Before I could speak, he let out a loud squeal at the sight of Melia.

“The gods do exist!” he gasped, clutching his chest. “They have answered my prayers!”

Melia flew straight to him, and both of them squeaked in wild excitement.

Weirdos.

“Guys, meet Bam,” Melia said, hovering above the counter. “He and my old master were very close.”

He clicked his teeth. “Oh, Hazel’s death was a tragedy to us all. We miss her dearly.”

“Look at you, offering your condolences,” Melia teased, before turning to us. “Oh, where are my manners? This is Elowen, my new master, and her little brother, Kaelen.”

“New master?” I asked, eyebrows raising.

“You bought the building, and you released me from my box of dust. That makes you my master.”

“I… I didn't agree to—”

“You’ll get used to it,” she cut in dismissively, returning to her chatter with Bam.

We gathered what essential ingredients my remaining coins could buy and left to shop for actual foodstuffs. By the time we made our way back to the crossroads tavern, dusk was falling, and the temperature had dropped drastically.

The wind grew wilder by the minute. Traders at the market had warned us that a severe Glimmer-Frost storm was sweeping down from the northern peaks tonight, one that could freeze the roads for weeks.

“I feel like we got to this place at the wrong time,” Kaelen murmured as I stirred a pot of simple porridge over the kitchen hearth.

I stopped staring at the flames and turned to him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean we’re practically on the run from Madame Heather, you stole from the library, and now there’s a storm so we can't even open the tavern tomorrow,” he paused, looking at his boots. “It’s all messed up.”

“Oh, Kaelen. What do we always say?”

“There’s always a little good in the midst of a million bad,” he grudgingly recited.

I smiled, stepped over, and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“I’m going to go play with Melia,” he said, running off toward the main hall.

It had always been just Kaelen and me against the world for as long as I could remember, and honestly, guilt ate at me because of it. Sometimes I thought Kaelen would have had a far better, peaceful life if he wasn’t stuck trailing after my messes.

Our parents had died during the war between the kingdoms. I still remembered our mother hiding us in the damp underground root cellar when the dread-druids from Dravgaith raided our border village.

Kaelen was barely a year old, and I was ten. I had prayed every single night for Aethelgard to win, and they did. The druids were captured and hanged before the capital gates, but my entire home was gone.

I wiped away a stray tear before it could fall and dished out two bowls of porridge. But just as I was about to call Kaelen back for dinner, a deafening crash echoed from the front of the house.

“Elowen!! You have to see this!!” Kaelen yelled, his voice laced with terror.